Suluk Gatoloco (Part 1)
Suluk Gatoloco (Part 1)
Suluk Gatoloco (Part 1)
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THE SULUK GA TOLOCO
Part One
Introduction
It puzzled the Dutch colonial cognoscenti from the start. When, in 1873, the
eminent missionary-Javanologue Poensen brought a (heavily truncated) version of
it to the light of printed day, he commented:
From a literary point of view the text has very little value. . . . But if we
look more carefully at its spirit, then the writer strikes us--with his concep-
tions of honor and virtue, and his sensible views on such matters as what
foods are permissible for human beings to eat--as very much a man of the
world, wholly lacking in the deep religious strain that characterizes the
authors of such works as the Wulang Reh, the Seh Tekawardi, etc., and
thereby also lacking their cultivation and breeding. In fact, he often
arouses our disgust, since he does not refrain from committing the most
trivial things to paper, and in the grossest way goes into detail about mat-
ters which it is not decent to mention. 1
This picture of a sort of third-rate Javanese Pantagruel cut no ice, however, with
the grandest of the colonial academic panjandrums. "The heretical daydreams of
an undoubtedly opium-besotted Javanese mystic!" thundered Snouck Hurgronje a
decade later. 2 Not at all, opined the liberal scholar-bureaucrat Rinkes in 1909,
the poem was a "serious satire against all that mystagogic rigmarole." 3 There mat-
ters rested for four decades. Then, in 1951, Philippus van Akkeren, forced to
abandon his missionary labors in East Java by the Japanese Occupation and the
Revolution, and filling in time with philology, published the first full text of the
Suluk, along with a meticulous critical apparatus and a thoughtful, semi-anthropo-
logical thematic analysis. 4
109
110
Since a major part of the Suluk consists of an extremely abrasive polemic against
what the anonymous author clearly viewed as narrow-minded, superficial, formalis-
tic, "Arab" Islamic orthodoxy, it may be a matter of some surprise that demonstra-
tions did not take place in 1889. But it must be remembered that in those days the
"native" readership for any printed material, let alone long Javanese poems, was
very small, organizations capable of organizing urban demonstrations did not exist,
and what we think of today as "orthodox" Islam was only beginning to assert itself
politically. By 1918, a lively Indonesian and Javanese language press had a wide
audience--we note that the controversy was fired by a newspaper quotation from
the book, not the book itself--the Sarekat Islam was at the height of its power,
with hundreds of thousands of adherents, and the orthodox "moral minority," its
self-consciousness strongly enhanced by the spread of Muhammadiyah, was begin-
ning a Kulturkampf which has persisted, even with added vigor, to the present.
At the same time, it is obvious that the Suluk's explicit scatological and sexual
language (Poensen's "in the grossest way") was becoming an embarrassment to a
Victorianized abangan urban (priyayi and middle-class) public determined to make
"Javanism" genteel and respectable in their own maju eyes and those of the Poen-
sens. And indeed nothing less maju, decent, "ethical," or bon bourgeois than the
Suluk can easily be imagined.
In the face of this formidable united front of orthodox Islam and respectable
Javanism, the Suluk Gatoloco went underground. To my knowledge it has not been
republished in Indonesia now for more than half a century: evidently no publisher
has been prepared to take the risk of being branded pornographer or religious
renegade. Yet it retains a clandestine reputation, known by name at least to many
who have never read it. And indeed it is a literary work of far too much merit and
interest to deserve perpetual entombment. It therefore seems worth while to offer
readers of Indonesia a translation, no matter how rough and ready, in order to give
them a glimpse into the catacombs of Javanese culture, and, if they choose, allow
them to be puzzled, angered, or delighted.
* * *
and sends him off to "see the world," warning him of a dangerous adversary, a
woman called Perjiwati, who is meditating in a mountain grotto. Gatoloco and Der-
magandul take their leave and depart.
The physical descriptions of Gatoloco and Dermagandul in Canto II, stanzas 3-5
hint stronglyl2 at what the names make explicit: Gatoloco is a compound of gato
(penis) and loco (rub, masturbate); Dermagandul combines derma (closely attached)
and gandul (hanging down); while the root of Perjiwati is perji (female genitalia).
In other words, the hero and his attendant are, as it were, a walking, talking pe-
nis and scrotum, and, at one level, the poem is an allegory of "sexual development."
In this sense, Part I describes the growth of a male organ/person from latency,
through the ordeal of circumcision (the "clipping") to mature potency and an im-
pending initiation into the rite of sexual intercourse.
Part II covers the 191 stanzas of Cantos III-VI. It describes Gatoloco's activi-
ties on his travels. Between bouts of gambling and visits to opium-dens, he en-
gages in a series of vitriolic debates with "orthodox" Islamic teachers on the true
nature of God, man, the cosmos, Islam, and much more besides. In every case he
triumphs by his wit and depth of ngelmu (mystical knowledge). One after another,
the guru santri concede defeat and flee his presence in profound humiliation.
The 193 stanzas of Part III depict Gatoloco's encounter with Perjiwati and her
four female attendants. After solving a series of conundrums posed by the five
women, he gains entry to Perjiwati's hitherto unpenetrated cave. Dermagandul at-
tempts to follow, but cannot get in. The motifs of Part I are revived, in that the
violent "battles" between Gatoloco and Perjiwati are thinly veiled descriptions of
sexual intercourse. After nine months a male child is born, just as hideous as his
father, but adored by both parents. The poem ends with a brief meditation on the
meaning of this birth and the nature of Life.
Themes. In his careful and thorough "Introduction" van Akkeren analyzes the
text in terms of four threads in pre-twentieth century Javanese culture.
a) An age-old autochthonous cult of fertility connected with forms of ancestor-
worship. As in other parts of Southeast Asia (he emphasizes ancient Cambodia and
Champa), this cult assumed an elaborate religious and political character under the
impact of Hindu-Buddhist civilization. This elaboration reached its apogee in Old
Java in the conception of the devaraja (God-King), the public manifestation of whose
potency (in every sense of the word) was the monumental lingga. The gigantic
stone erect phallus, understood often as a yantra ("projection") of the ruler's
Power, 13 linked him to the aboriginal Power of his dead ancestors, the gods (espe-
12. I.e., . .. .
Warnane tan kaprah janmi Yet shaped unlike a normal man:
Wandane apan bungkik His body shriveled, shrunk,
Kulite basisik iku And scaly, dry his wrinkled skin,
Kelawan tanpa netra Without a nose at all,
Tanpa irung tanpa kuping Or eyes, or ears; his pleasure but
Remenane anendra sadina-dina. To sleep and sleep, day in, day
out, continuously;
Yen ngelilir lajeng montah Yet once aroused from his deep sleep
Tan kena den arih. ... Unruly, not to be appeased ..
13. For further discussion, see my "The Idea of Power in Javanese Culture," in
Culture and Politics in Indonesia, ed. Claire Holt et al. (Ithaca: Cornell University
Press, 1972), pp. 1-69, especially pp. 8-19.
113
cially Siva), and the center of the cosmos. The strongly phallic motifs on Candi
Sukuh and Candi Ceta show that this tradition was still "above ground" as late as
the fifteenth century; with the coming of Islam it persisted in subterranean fashion.4
b) A heterodox conception of the way (van Akkeren calls it the "left-hand
path") to achieve Power: not by the mainstream method of yogic asceticism and med-
itation, but the Tantric means of deliberate, systematic "exhaustion" of the sensual,
above all sexual, appetites.
c) The tradition of Sufi mysticism, with its emphasis on the esoteric interpreta-
tion of the vocabulary and practice of Islam. Van Akkeren speaks of the Sufi con-
ception of human life as a manifestation or "descent" of divinity into the world (this
emanation often being designated the Nur Muhammad [Light of Muhammad]); and of
the adept's search for a mystical "reascent" towards the aboriginal Oneness. In
the Sufi-tinged tradition, this movement from Oneness to Duality and the yearning
for Re-Union is "figured" on occasion in the movement from the birth of a male,
his yearning for union with a mate, and the production through sexual intercourse
of a new solitary male. Intercourse between man and wife can be seen both as a
sign of, and a means to, achieving the unio mystica.
d) What van Akkeren refers to as "Javanese nationalism," by which at bottom
he means a tenacious attachment to the idea of the cosmic centrality of Java, going
back to the very origins of the world. The ancestors of the Javanese are the myth-
ical heroes of the Mahabharata and the wayang, and ultimately the Gods themselves;
Java is the very pivot of the universe. From this there arises a deep rejection of
foreign claims to supremacy, and hostility to foreign (most notably "Arab") cultural
penetration.
Van Akkeren performs a valuable service in his careful separation of these
threads. Yet, in the end, his achievement is like the careful unraveling of a su-
perb tapestry. The different-colored yarns are assorted in tidy piles, but one has
no idea of what the pattern was that turned yarns into tapestry, or what the weav-
er intended by his labors. And thematic classification runs the risk of extruding
the Suluk from history. We are forcibly reminded of this by one conspicuous fact
that van Akkeren overlooks: that in the recorded heritage of these four traditions
nowhere (so far as I know) does a "hero" like Gatoloco appear, nor, I think, could
one easily be imagined. For Gatoloco is precisely not an imposing devaraja, nor an
elegant wayang satria, nor a venerable ascetic sage, nor a wali (Muslim saint), nor
a Sufi adept, nor even a nineteenth century Javanese king or a Diponegoro-style
(Javanese nationalist?) rebel leader. He is something quite new: as Canto I, stan-
zas 3 and 11, and Canto III, stanzas 1-5 make clear, he is a hideous, misshapen,
stinking, foul-mouthed, opium-smoking, argumentative, philosophical .... ambula-
tory penis.15 Nor can we easily shrug off this "hero" Hurgronje-style as the
14. But visitors to the kraton of Surakarta will find on the inner walls of the main
entrance blue-and-white circular faience plates featuring a lingga on one side and
a yoni on the other.
15. New, but perhaps not outside the trajectory of a certain literary-cultural evo-
lution. Both van Akkeren (Een Gedrocht, p. 30) and Soemarsaid Moertono, in his
State and Statecraft in Old Java, rev. ed. (Ithaca: Cornell Modern Indonesia Pro-
ject, Monograph Series, 1981), p. 58, cite the strange episode in the Babad Tanah
Djawi in which, after the death of Amangkurat II (r. 1677-1703), his "manhood
stood erect and on the top of it was a radiant light, only the size of a grain of
pepper. But nobody observed it. Only Pangeran Puger saw it. Pangeran Puger
quickly sipped up the light. As soon as the light had been sipped, the manhood
ceased to stand erect. It was God's will that Pangeran Puger should succeed to the
114
the Serat Dermagandul, the Babad Kediri, the Serat Wedatama, and so forth. le
It seems never to occur to the gentle missionary to find it odd that this "national-
ism" is not directed against the Dutch, who had by then dominated Javanese poli-
tics for more than two centuries, who after 1830 had turned most candidate "heroes"
into pliable pangrehpraja, and who had just inflicted the Cultuurstelsel on the de-
scendants of Arjuna. The virtually complete silence of the Suluk on the subject of
the Dutch 9 is not an eccentricity; the same silence pervades the Serat Dermagandul
the Serat Wedatama, and Ronggawarsita's oeuvre, not to speak of the "autobiogra-
phy" of the great Diponegoro himself. 20
What accounts for this thunderous Dutch absence is a question far too complex
to broach here. But it is only by reminding oneself of it that one will be aware
that the landscape of Gatoloco's travels, from pondok to ponlok, from palace to
opium-den to mountain cave, is not "ancestral-mythological," as it might be in an
episode of the Ramayana, but "imaginary"--one might almost say utopian. It is
landscape from which the Postweg, plantations, Poensens, tax-farmers, bupatis,
toll-gates, possibly even railways have been erased. This in turn suggests that
perhaps for the first time in Java's long history, its culture is being exactly that:
imagined.
Style. It would be hard to call the Suluk "poetic" in any obvious Western or
even traditional Javanese sense. There is almost none of the ravishing sensuous-
ness of the great late eighteenth century Serat Centini, let alone the calm, sweet
elegance of the Old Javanese literature to which Father Zoetmulder's Kalangwan is
such an admirable tribute.21 Nonetheless, the style is arresting and, once tasted,
hard to forget. The text is full of "classical tropes," but they are used in an eerie,
disconnected way, to the point almost of being quotations-in-inverted-commas. For
example, the very first stanza is perfectly "classical":
The tale to be related here
Concerns a kingdom celebrated
Both far and wide, called Jajar, and
18. See Suranto Atmosaputro and Mlartin Hatch, "Serat Wedatama: A Translation,"
Indonesia, 14 (October 1972), pp. 157-81, esp. at pp. 169-73.
19. The text mentions Landa only once or twice in passing, and in each case sim-
ply as another type of foreigner on a par with Chinese, Bengalis, and so on, i.e.,
with no special power and of no special interest. See, e.g., Canto V, stanzas
35-36.
20. See Ann Kumar, "Prince Dipanegara (1787?-1855)," Indonesia, 13 (April 1972),
pp. 69-118. What we "know" to be powerful Dutchmen are named in Diponegoro's
text, but they are identified simply by rank (Edelheer, etc.), never as "nationals"
nor as representatives or agents of "the Dutch." In this regard, two visions that
the Prince records are instructive: in one, a supernatural voice told him: "Further,
I say, / In three years will come a time / Of great disturbances in Jogjakarta [not
Batavia, which indeed is never mentioned]"; in another, the Ratu Adil declared:
"The reason I have summoned you / Is that you must lead all my soldiers / In the
conquest [not liberation] of Java." See pp. 77 and 103.
21. Compare the utterly unromantic, not to say brutal, account of sexual inter-
course in Canto X, with its unrelieved stress on "stink," "vomit," and "foulness,"
with any of the parallel descriptions in the Tjentini. For Old Javanese literature,
see P. J. Zoetmulder, S.J., Kalangwan: A Survey of Old Javanese Literature (The
Hague: Nijhoff, 1974).
116
wirogo, Patokaning Njekaraken, 2nd printing (Jakarta: Balai Pustaka, 1952), pp.
66-67. I am grateful to Robert Klotz for these references.
25. I.e., Santri tiga duk miyarsa On hearing this the santri three
Sareng misuh silitbabi Abused him, screaming: "Pig's asshole!"
Ki Gatoloco angucap Said Gatoloco in response:
Apa ta silite babi "Why speak you of a pig's asshole?
Digawa kang darbeni Its owner bears it. Thus
Nora gepok raganingsun On me it has no bearing." Cried
Santri tiga angucap The santri three in turn:
Biyangamu silitbabi "Your mother is a pig's asshole!"
Gatoloco mojar iku ora kaprah Said Gatoloco: "This is very odd indeed!
Iku ora lumrah jalma "You must be men of talents rare
Sira bisa angarani If you can specify her so.
Menawa sira pribadya Perhaps you call her 'pig's asshole'
Wus ngarani nyilitbabi . . . Because that's what you are yourselves?"
26. All these quotations are drawn from Padmosoekotjo, Ngengrengan, and Hardjo-
wirogo, Patokaning.
118
where necessary to achieve this effect, I have translated with some freedom. In
every case, however, I have included the relevant lines of the Javanese in a foot-
note, so that the interested reader can assess the degree of semantic distortion
and perhaps enjoy the roll and play of the original.
The full text of the translation, almost 400 stanzas, is too long to be included
in a single issue of Indonesia, so I have arbitrarily divided it into two more or less
equal parts, though the division (Cantos I-V, VI-XI) corresponds to no significant
caesura in the poem as a whole. I should perhaps add that I have tried to keep
footnotes to the minimum necessary for a reader to be able to follow the text.
A personal postscript: I prepared a rough translation of the Suluk many
years ago for a seminar on literature in Indonesia. My copy was then lost, and
for a long time I thought it was gone for good. But then, early this year, Dr.
James Rush of Yale University told me that he had a copy in his possession and
sent it to me, urging me to polish it for publication. For this act of friendly con-
servation I am very grateful.
SULUK GATOLOCO
I.
Asmarandana.
9. Van Akkeren (p. 107) identifies this tree as the ancient Tree of Heaven, or
Tree of Life.
10. The reference is clearly to circumcision.
11. Hyang Suksma. The author uses a variety of terms, including Hyang Widi,
Hyang Agung, Pangeran, etc., for the Supreme Being, more for metrical reasons
121
than because the names refer to different attributes of the divinity. I have felt
free to adopt an equivalent variety of English terms for the same reasons. The
reader should not assume that any particular English term invariably corresponds
to a particular Javanese expression.
12. Wahyu--the mysterious radiance of Power that descends on those heroes of
Javanese lore who are destined for special greatness.
122
III.
Mijil.
1. In mijil meter let us now describe
The guru of a pondok. 14
Ki Ngabdul Jabar was the name of one,
Ki Ngabdul Manab was another's name,
The third Amat Ngarib,
Their pupils numerous.
2. Each guru had a hundred students or
Yet more, young santri all.
They taught Quranic recitation and
The kitab Sitin, Pekih, Mukarar,
Isbandi and Usul,
And Tahjwit and Nahwu.15
3. Their fame was celebrated everywhere.
Distinguished in debate,
There was no guru who could best them. All
The santri stood in deepest awe of them,
In ng}lmul6 argument
Ever-victorious.
4. Now at this time were the kiyayi17 three
Eager to take the field,
Battling with words about the ngelmu lore,
Debating other guru, hither and yon.
That afternoon they fixed
To leave the following day.
5. Thus the next morning rose these santri three
And, after Subuh18 prayer,
IV.
pandanggula.
25. KWlat-balls, also known as jicing, are made of the dross left in the bowl of an
opium-pipe after a smoke. The balls are chewed and swallowed. In nineteenth
century Java this was the cheapest form of opium consumption. See James Rush,
"Opium Farms in Nineteenth Century Java, 1860-1910" (Ph.D. thesis, Yale Univer-
sity, 1977), p. 28n. 66.
126
To suffer torment--
No less so in the world hereafter,
In fact seven times more dire than in this world!
So now we say to you
9. "Earnestly learn Quranic recitation
Aiming to know the sarak of God's Prophet.26
Safety in this world and the next
Comes only to the faithful
Obeyers of the Prophet's law.
This creature's doubly damned
In this life and
The next." All the companions then
Murmured amens, while Amat Ngarib spoke these words:
"This creature, I suspect,
10. "Is really no true human being at all.
Most likely it's a wdw6, graveyard-born,
Gendruwa, or a memedi,
Or an ilu-ilu!"27
Then Ngabdul Jabar took his turn:
"A goblin of some sort!
Some kind of ghost!
Or possibly a gibbon-ape,
Or an orangutan, dwelling in jungle depths!"
Ki Ngabdul Manap said:
11. "All your interpretations are amiss.
It's of the race of jungle-stalking ogres
Called Memedi Tongtongsot!" As
He listened to the words
The guru santri spoke, the stranger's
Heart grew bitter, but
He showed no sign.
Swiftly his bundle he untied,
Took out a large container-box of opium-dross
And downed it at one gulp.
12. At once the intoxicating power spread
Right through his body, through both skin and flesh,
Flowing through every muscle to
The marrow of his bones.
Therewith his strength was all restored.
His eyes flashed glittering fire,
His face turned blue.
The santri scanned with watchful eyes
The manner of this stranger who had just arrived,
Noting his altered mien.
13. Ki Ngabdul Jabar turned to Mat Ngarib:
"Amat Ngarib, pray ask this creature what
26. These are the five obligations laid on pious Muslims by Mohammad: the five
daily prayers; the confession of faith; the observance of the fasting month of Ram-
adan; the pilgrimage to Mecca; and the distribution of alms.
27. Various kinds of Javanese spooks, ghosts, and ghouls.
127
28. Various types of Islamic taboos. Sirik and makruh are things to be avoided
(rather than strictly forbidden), e.g., shellfish. Najis and haram refer to
things regarded as absolutely polluting, such as pork. Batal refers to the can-
cellation of the beneficial effect of a ritual through accidental pollution.
29. Lanang Sejati is to be understood in multiple senses: Lanang means "mascu-
line," "a male," while sejati has the double meaning of "flawless" and "original" or
"model." The meaning of the whole phrase is both "essence of maleness," and
"Perfect Man."
128
30. These are synonyms of Gatoloco: gatel is a variant for gato; kinisik means
"rubbed," and panglus "one who rubs."
31. Halal is the opposite of haram, i.e., ritually pure.
32. Various ranks of territorial officialdom in nineteenth century colonial Java.
Kepala = village headman; demang = a special superior kind of headman, with
authority over other headmen; mantri destrik = an official at the District (Kewe-
danaan) level; bupati = Regent; patih here = deputy to a bupati.
33. Priyayi--a member of the Javanese administrative upper class.
34. A play on words repeated many times in the course of the text. Ala (bad,
ugly) is what the santri call Gatoloco, because of his appearance and behavior.
But he assimilates its sound to that of [a]lanang (male) and, later, Allah, indicat-
ing a mystical relationship between all three.
129
35. Another esoteric play on words: sedy[a m]ati means "prepared for death" in
the physical and mystical senses of the latter word.
36. Here, and elsewhere, the antagonists use the coarsest possible Javanese to
one another. Dapurmu is a vulgarism for "face" or "mien."
130
41. Gatoloco contrasts the Javanese sembah with the Muslim prostration in prayer.
The senibah is a gesture of respect performed with the palms placed together be-
fore the face, with the face itself in a normal, upright position. The Muslim pros-
tration ("upside-down") involves kneeling and placing the forehead down on the
ground.
133
V.
Sinom .
42. The Owner (Ingkang Darbani) is another expression for the divinity.
43. They use the term munap~k, derived from the Arabic [mundfik] and literally
meaning "apostate from Islam."
44. The above passage satirizes what the author sees as the formalism of orthodox
Islam--such that even theft can be justified by use of the right scriptural casuis-
try.
45. "Young men" (nomnoman) is a linguistic cue indicating that the meter is to
shift to Sinom.
46. Dalang = puppeteer; wayang are the celebrated puppets used for the Javanese
shadowplay.
47. The blencong is the special (often beautifully ornamented) oil-lamp used for
traditional wayang performances. The kelir is the screen against which the pup-
pets are placed.
134
48. Tuwa is used throughout in the double sense of "senior" and "ancient," i.e.,
close to the origin of things.
135
49. The cousins who are the main protagonists of the Mahabharata, the best-loved
source of stories for wayang performances.
50. Van Akkeren (p. 118) says that typically the first puppet that the puppeteer
brings on stage is described by him as someone who "yearns for" a loved one or a
treasured object.
51. Another expression for the divinity.
52. Still another esoteric expression for the divine essence.
136
56. Here and in the following line I have taken some liberties in attempting to con-
vey something of the author's ironical playing on words. The Javanese runs:
Manut kitab tabetaban / Manut dalil tanpa angsil / Amung kinarya angsil / Tan
kangsil ing rasanipun ....
57. Rasa is one of the most notoriously untranslatable words in Javanese, partly
because of its multiplicity of meanings ("feeling," "sense," "meaning," etc.), but
also because it is central to a very un-Western conception of man's physical and
spiritual being, and his relation to the cosmos. Thus it may bear the connotations
of "that inner faculty which links man to the divinity in the world," or
"mystical
consciousness" or "inner meaning"--and so forth. The difficulties are such that I
have often left the word untranslated, in its original form--a strategy which also
has its metrical advantages on occasion.
58. With "text . . . not ecstatic" I have tried to convey the play of:
Mung nurut
daliling kitab / Tan kinetap jroning ati . . .
59. Here the play corresponds to: Tan kangsil in rasanipun / Namung rasaning
ilat / Puniku dipunkecapi / Rasanira ing kawruh datan rinasa.
138
60. Talkim. In Islamic practice, an oration spoken at the graveside and addressed
to the deceased person, accompanied by prayers.
61. Tak-repotake pulisi is the original Javanese.
139
62. The Javanese could not be more coarsely explicit: Mung nikmat pucuk perji.
63. "Worship" has perhaps unavoidable Christian connotations. The Javanese
word is puji.
64. The Javanese phrase ilange duk alam gaib is itself rather mysterious.
140
65. Hyang Tanpana (Hyang Tanpa Ana)--another appellation for the divinity.
66. In this and the following line we find the colonial judicial terms "pulisi" and
"pangadilan." But there's no doubt that both terms here have an esoteric mystical
meaning as well.
67. Inevitably,"rough," "smooth," and "obscure" do not do justice to such richly
connotative Javanese words as agal [kasar], halus, and samar.
68. Edan (mad) has to be understood esoterically as meaning both "unlike ordi-
nary men" and as "obsessed with the search for the divinity."
69. Again, these pleasures are to be understood (?) esoterically.
70. Here, and elsewhere in the text, "dog" (asu) and "origin" (asal) are esoteri-
cally linked.
141
71. Apa Landa apa Cina apa Koja. It is hard to know in this context whether by
Landa the author means "Dutch" or "white men." There is a similar problem with
Koja, which Van Akkeren translates as "from N.W. India," but which was in the
nineteenth century a common Javanese term for foreign Asian (non-Chinese) mer-
chants in general.
72. Kresten agamanira puzzled Van Akkeren (p. 122), who thought that if the
author meant Christians he would have said Srani. He therefore suggested that
Kresten might mean the Quraish of the Kur'an. This reasoning seems implausible
to me, and I assume that Kresten, like pulisi, derives from Dutch-colonial "Malay,"
and simply means "Christians."
73. I.e., the multiple divinities of the Hindu-Javanese cosmology and the wayang
world.
74. I.e., betara.
75. The leader of the coalition of coastal states that destroyed Majapahit in the
fifteenth century, and the first major Islamic state in Java's history.
76. No doubt this anachronistic phrasing jars. It is my only solution to the prob-
lem of conveying the play of Jawa jawal kapir kopar.
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77. The text has Tegese kapir kapiran, which can be literally translated as "The
meaning of kapir is 'abandoned,' 'neglected"' (kapiran). Kapir, of course, "really"
means "kaffir," or "infidel." "Kapir 'capricious' signifies" is a very loose transla-
tion designed only to keep the play of sounds.
78. The text has Teges sira bangsa Kristen bangsa Arab. Once again, my trans-
lation diverges from Van Akkeren's on the question of the meaning of Kristen
(Kresten).
79. Zakat and fitrah are the alms and donations pious Muslims are obliged to make
annually to the poor and to mosque officials. See above at n. 26.
80. This phrasing attempts to convey the play between anak jalang (whore's son)
and ajal ka6langan (death and disappearance).
81. The Javanese trukbyangmu is no less coarse than my English.
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88. Here and in the next line "God" corresponds to "Hyang" and "Widi" in the
original text.
89. I.e., "Pangeran."
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90. Ngrusak buku nyekrap sastra lawan angka. Van Akkeren (p. 124) thinks that
this line is the author's "insider" joke about the art of writing. Possibly, but the
general point of the stanza is a cunning discussion of the paradoxes of free will
and predestination.
91. The translation does not do justice to the allusive literary elegance of Kang
dadya juru serat. Juru serat, which can mean "clerk," or "scribe," and here
clearly refers to the divinity who pre-"scribes" all things, is, I think, also to be
taken in the sense of "author"--so that the reference to "low pay" may well allude
to the author of the text's own impoverished circumstances. This self-referential-
ity is something that goes back to the very origins of Javanese literature.
92. I.e., what is preordained.
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93. Silit babi, literally, "pig's anus." But the expression is part of a common-
place coarse expletive (see below), so I have taken some liberty in finding an
English equivalent.
94. This whole phrase is a vulgarism suggesting that the mother is a common
whore.
95. The Ka'bah (Kaiba) is the huge black rock, probably of meteoritic origin, in
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the center of the great mosque in Mecca. In the final stages of the hajj the pil-
grims walk around the Ka'ba seven times in prayer. It is said that out of awed
respect the sun itself never stands directly over the rock.
96. A reference to the practice of dhikr--see above at n. 22.
97. I.e., Egypt.
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98. Here, as elsewhere in the text, the opposition lahir (outer)/batin (inner)
is both central to the thought of Javanese mysticism itself, and serves as an in-
vidious symbol comparing it with Islam. To Gatoloco, as to other Javanese mystics,
orthodox Islam concerns itself excessively with the outward forms of ritual, not
their spiritual essence.
99. "Death" here, as often elsewhere in the text, refers to the mystical death-to-
the-self, not physical extinction.
100. I.e., a devil or spook.
101. If I am not mistaken, this passage reflects a common pre-twentieth century
Javanese idea of the nature of conception: a man's semen holds, as it were, the
entire genetic code, or more properly conveys a common, continuing substance
from generation to generation, and especially to his sons. But until mixed with a
"characterless" white substance inside a woman's genitals, the semen cannot create
new life.
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102. Here the sarak of Islam are sardonically assimilated to sarat (conditions), by
which the author means, more or less, "what is natural." He contrasts what he
sees as the unnatural Islamic prohibitions on certain foods with the natural condi-
tions of life ("pork wouldn't be there, or so tasty, if it wasn't to be eaten").
103. Literally mangan lebokna silit.
104. See above, at n. 57.
105. A rather loose rendering of Basa sarak rak larasan / Sul nusul tegese iki /
Nusul rerasan sisip . . . to attempt to accommodate the complex--and here rather
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[To be continued]
confused--play of the Javanese words. The mild confusion arises because the
author begins by suggesting he will make a punning esoteric interpretation of
Rasul (Messenger); then is diverted by the association of sounds and meanings
between Ra(sul) and (sa)rak to interpreting sarak; and finally reverts to the
final syllable of Rasul.
106. Kawuntat "after, behind" is a synonym of sorts for pungkur, a signal that
the meter now will change to Pangkur.